


Badminton Dibidibidi-Doubles

by Anonymous



Category: SHINee
Genre: Badminton, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Hospitals, Illnesses, Sports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 16:50:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20213083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: author:alliepjammies.tumblr.comPrompt #60: Minho & Kibum VS Jonghyun & Jinki are rival badminton pairs throughout a pro competition up to the finals who become friends. Minho & Kibum are the intimidating aces of their training base who dislike each other but are being forced to as a team get sponsorships as solos if they win. Jonghyun & Jinki are no-names who have played together forever and are in the competitions for a fun time as the last chance of fulfilling their childhood dream because Jinki will retire soon from an injury/illness as Jonghyun goes on as a solo.





	Badminton Dibidibidi-Doubles

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for: Cliché anime tropes such as tsundere Key, the bonds of friendship, and a lot of flashbacks. Could’ve been better but isn’t.

With the final strike, the birdie fell the other side, laying motionlessly on the field. This scene was all too familiar, as the calls of his team filled the stadium. 

“Congratulations.”

“I can’t believe you mad it.”

“You beat them good.”

Compliments wisps by him as he walked, praises surrounding him and his effort. 

“I always knew you’d make it to the finals.”

That’s right – with this match won, he made it to the finals. They, made it to the finals. 

It’s a milestone, it’s one more step closer to his goal, but why doesn’t he feel as happy as he should. 

“Stop making that face, it makes you look worse than you normally do.” He raised his head, facing his partner. 

“Why so sad Minho, are you upset you didn’t get the winning strike,” he teased, “I guess I can’t blame you. Oh well, a sour face for a sour attitude.”

“Is that why you always look the way you do?” Minho said, “Afterall, who’s sourer than Kim Kibum?” 

That’s right – he was one step closer to his goal. When he wins the finals, he’ll finally go solo.

~///~

It was on the news, the Flaming Crowns win. Korean Wave Badminton Tournament was the new trend, and soon enough both team member’s faces were plastered on every media outlet. Picking up a news paper with said faces on it, a young man started to look through it. With on leg crossed on top of the other, he stuck his tongue in his check, as he scanned the words on the page. 

“Did you hear about the win,” the man said to his roommate, who was occupied in the other room. 

“About Flaming Crowns? Yeah, they’re a good group.”

“It’s going to be hard to beat them.”

“But we can do it,” the roommate came with a cup of milk tea, sitting down on the armchair across from him. An alarm rang from the older man’s watch, as he placed his newspaper down, and reached for the pill and water beside him. Popping it inside his mouth, the boy flushed it down with his water. 

“But does it work?” the roommate asked, referring to his medicine. 

“Good enough to keep on going to the last match,” he said. 

“I’m being serious here Jinki, I don’t want you to hurt yourself just because-”

“I’m fine Jonghyun,” he reassured him, “besides, badminton is like physical therapy for me, if anything, it’s helping my treatment.”

“If you say so,” Jonghyun said, “On a different note, what do you think about these armchairs I bought, got a pretty good deal if I do say so myself.” 

“Didn’t you get this from the old lady a few floors down?” 

“Yeah, after I carried both armchairs down to the streets for disposal, I realized that these chairs would actually look good in our apartment, so I asked her if I could take them. After that I brought them all the way up, and to thank me the old lady baked me some fresh peanut butter cookies served with milk.”

“She lives on the third floor, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And we live on the fifth?”

“I would be pretty concerned if we had the wrong floor.”

“So, you carried the two chairs down three flight of stairs, then brought them back up five?”

“But aren’t they comfy?” Jinki stared at his friend, processing what he confirmed, blinking slowly. 

With a sudden flash of change, he gleamed his gummy smile, rubbing the arms of the chair, “Yeah, they really are! And is this, microfibre?”

“You bet,” Jonghyun said bouncing on his seat. 

“Such luxury, we live like kings.”

~///~

Birdies were tossed back and forth, the net aligned two opponents, as they swung their rackets, as the shuttle ricochet against the monofilament polyester. The two players eyes were focused, their pupils rapidly following the shuttle, swiftly moving their feet, calculating each move. With a final strike the birdie spiraled to ground, next to Minho’s feet. 

As if it he was releasing all his tension in his muscle, Kibum let out a sigh – actually more of a groan – as he wiped the sweat that cladded on his forehead. Eyes closed, head hung up, he didn’t notice his partner in front of him until his side was poked with the rod of a racquet.

“I only lost because if I reached for the swing, I would’ve strained my arm,” Minho said, Kibum feeling the space beside him getting heavier. Sliding down the other way, he kept his eyes closed, arms crossed. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“I’m serious, you have to pay attention to the way you swing, the other time your shot was almost out of bounds, your swings are unpredictable. It’s like you don’t think when you play anymore.” 

Slipping the dirty towel off of his forehead, his threw the towel on the ground, “can’t you leave me alone for at least a moment,” he let out another groan, this one definitely not a sigh, “why do you care so much, focus your energy on winning,” his feline eyes coldly leered his peer. 

“I’m trying to but my partner is playing like a sub-par athlete. No matter how good I am, you play like that and it can cost us the game. I’m a badminton ace, not Hercules.” Kibum got up, grabbing his bag, mumbling how annoying he was. 

“If you were half as good at getting on my nerves than you were playing, you wouldn’t need to me to win the finals.” 

Before leaving he halted his steps, slightly turning his head before saying, “if you forgotten, some of us got this far because of our ‘sub-par’ skills, and not because our Fathers are renowned players,  _ daddies’ boy _ .” 

Minho shot up, his fist clenched, “Yah,” his call falling on deaf ears. Shaking, he grabbed a bottled water, drinking it down in one go. Throwing the empty plastic aside, he collected his thoughts.  _ Who does he think he is _ , Minho thought,  _ stuck up cold hearted rich boy. _

“Excuse me,” a young boy said from behind. Turning around Minho face a young man in his early twenties, holding his empty bottle. 

“I think you dropped this,” he said. Taking it from his Minho smiled, thanking him. 

“No problem,” Taemin said. 

“You’re calling it a day?”

“Yeah, I lost most of the birdies in the new pack I got, so I decided I should go home before I lose the last one I have.”

“I’m sorry, you lost your birdies?” Minho scrunched his face in confusion, as Taemin pointed to the ceiling with his racquet. Glancing up, a collection of discarded shuttles stuck between the network of pipes in the ceiling. 

“I see,” Minho said. 

“How about you, how’s practice with Kibum?”

“Don’t ask,” Minho said, before pausing, “say Taemin, what do you when you and your partner can’t get along?”

“You and Kibum in another fight?”

“When are we not?”

“Fair enough,” he thought for a minute, “I can’t say Jongin and I have gotten in a fight before. No wait we have. I wanted grilled meat, he wanted fried chicken, it wasn’t pretty. But after a week we forgot why exactly we were mad at each other so it worked out in the end.” 

“Thank you, that was very helpful,” in which he meant that it was  _ not  _ helpful, at all. 

“Anything for my number one star athlete.”


End file.
